Hiatus
by boohoo650
Summary: We’re on hiatus. I use this word instead of the word “break” because I feel like “break” has a negative connotation to it. A negative sound. And we certainly aren’t broken, therefore I’m no longer going to use that word. So we’re on hiatus.


A/N: I don't own them. General season 6 spoiler.

A/N2: This started out being from Alex's POV, but somehow morphed into Bobby's. I'm 99 sure it will remain as a one shot, but we'll see. I figure my next writing endeavor should be something that isn't spawned directly from the evens of an episode, maybe even my first ever case-file. We'll see.

We're on hiatus. I use this word instead of the word "break" because I feel like "break" has a negative connotation to it. A negative sound. And we certainly aren't broken, therefore I'm no longer going to use that word. So we're on hiatus.

A pause. A gap if you will. A gap we're going to jump over when we're done being on hiatus. Maybe what I mean is… when I'm done being on hiatus.

After my mother died I knew I needed time off. From everything. Even her. I decided to take leave from work until labor day. Unpaid, beyond the time designated for "compassionate" leave. I decided to sublet my apartment, to keep my expenses low, and to just take off for the summer.

I went to Alex's to tell her about my plan, about what was about to become our plan. Our hiatus. Maybe it's wrong that I planned something without discussing it with her, but I felt that this was something I needed to do on my own. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't just leave her. I couldn't let her go. Not like that.

So she bit her lip, smiled at me, and nodded her understanding. She reached out, squeezed my hand, leaned up on her tip-toes and pecked my cheek.

"I'll see you when you get back."

And just like that, she let me go. She did what she knew I could not, at least not in my current mental state. She gave me the space I needed, when I could not ask for it myself.

So, we've been on hiatus. I didn't leave town right away. I stayed for ten days, wrapping up my mothers affairs, settling up with Carmel Ridge, putting my belongings into storage, and watching Alex. We parted ways a week after my mother died, the Monday before Memorial Day. I left four days later, on Friday. I'll admit what I did in those four days was a little creepy, but I needed to do it for my peace of mind.

When Alex told me to go that Monday I knew that no matter how much she needed me she would never ask me to stay. Not under those circumstances. So I had to know she was okay.

So I would sit near her apartment in the mornings, watch her go on her run, try to tell from afar if she had been able to sleep. I would watch when she came home at night, make sure she got inside safely and didn't panic at being alone in the house where she was violated.

Once I reconciled with my own mind that she was just fine on her own I was able to leave.

I've spent the past three months doing everything and nothing. It's the first time in my life I've never had to worry about anyone (although, I'll admit my mind frequently wanders to Alex), the first time I've never had any obligations. It's the first time I've been able to just let go.

I've been all over these past few months. I went lobstering with this guy I met on the Maine coast, I drove across the plains and watched a tornado touch the ground in Nebraska. I drove up the Pacific Coast Highway, laid on the beach in California, visited the Japanese gardens in Portland, and went up into the Seattle Space Needle.

I tried to go and see things. Keep my mind occupied. Try not to feel too much pain or too much grief. Or worse… not enough. I ended up spending most of my time in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. I'm not sure why but on my way back East, at the beginning of July, I was planning to stop in Chicago and see some old friends. I ended up driving north, through Wisconsin, thinking I would spend a few days on Lake Michigan and then head south to the city.

Well, something about the peace and quiet of the town and the beating of the lake against the shore captivated me. Slow and steady. So I rented a small cabin for five weeks and set up shop. I spent my time reading, hiking around the lake, fishing, and reminding myself how to put one foot in front of the other and just breath.

It's true I had kind of let my own well-being fall by the wayside when my mother got sick. I was already spending a great deal of time worrying about Alex and the trauma she suffered at the hands of Jo Gage and so when my mother was diagnosed I really stopped caring about myself in general. It was all just too much.

So while up in Manitowoc I spent a lot of time remembering how to take care of myself. Finding my own footing on the ground.

Part of this remembering was also to remind myself how to have people in my life without having them consume my every breath and moment. And learning how to re-integrate the person who has meant the most to me over these past few years into my life.

You'd have to be drunk or stoned or something funny to think I could spend three months away and not think of Alex. Not care about her. And not make sure she was okay.

So I kept in touch.

Before I left I spoke with my Captain and he informed me that I could take as much time as I needed, and that Eames could partner with Logan because his partner was headed to Europe as part of a special task force.

I don't know Mike Logan very well but we had come to understand a few things about each other during the one case we had worked together. One of those understandings was that we each took care of our partners. This made me know he would take care of mine.

I e-mailed Mike a few times. Maybe half a dozen times. His responses were always quick, giving me little blurbs and insights to let me know she was okay.

"_She's fine, eating plenty, says she thinks she's going to run the NYC Marathon," _

"_Looks like she's sleeping, says she's taking her nephew to the Jersey Shore with her sister and brother-in-law this weekend." _

And my personal favorite _"Man, I always thought your partner had that tough, sexy cop thing going for her but have you ever seen her in a cocktail dress? She's a fine looking woman."_

Mike and I were close but not close enough for him to know, beyond the speculation, that not only had I seen how unbelievable my partner looked in a cocktail dress but that there were multiple occasions on which I removed said dress from her body.

I received similarly short e-mails from Alex herself. However, she never delved beyond the surface of what was going on in her life. She clearly didn't want me to worry about her and I appreciated that a lot.

Still, I e-mailed her at least once a day. I couldn't help myself. I missed my best friend.

Once, and only once, she responded to some rambling of mine with a single sentence: _"I miss you too, Bobby."_

I came back to New York almost ten days ago. Two weeks before Labor Day. Now it's the Friday before Labor Day and I am sitting creepily outside Alex's house. She doesn't know I'm back. She knows I'm supposed to come back to work next Tuesday, after the holiday, but no one told her I've actually made it back to the city. I certainly haven't alerted her to my presence.

As eager as I've been to reconnect I've also come to terms with the fact that I needed to start by wading into the water, not jumping in head first.

I've spent the past few days visiting my mother's grave, moving my belongings out of storage, and watching her from afar.

I heard from Logan that she was taking the last two weeks before Labor Day off. He had been assigned a new partner, and she wanted a vacation before I came back.

From what I can tell she looks like she's been resting, laying on the beach out here in Rockaway, exercising, and keeping to herself.

Seems like she's having a bit of a mental hiatus of her own.

Last night I decided that the hiatus was over. For both of us.

Since she's on vacation I know she isn't getting up at 6 a.m. to go for a run. I was right.

At 9 a.m. I watched her open her door and bound down the steps in the direction of the water. I figured if she ran seven miles she'd be back by 9:45., running between 6 and 7 minutes per mile as was her usual pace for distances under ten miles.

I drove a few blocks to the bagel shop in her neighborhood and got us some breakfast. I picked one of Alex's favorite breakfast bagel, as well as a bagel for myself, and a piece of fruit.

Now here I am at 9:43, sitting on her stoop, waiting for her to return.

I see her before she sees me. She's looking incredibly buff these days, more so than usual, in her sports bra and running shorts. She's slick with sweat, moving through New York's summer heat and humidity at an enviable pace.

She finally spots me and my bag of food. She slows to a walk and finally comes to a stop in front of her house. As she stretches her legs out she doesn't say anything to me, and I don't say anything to her. I'm not really sure what to say. I'm not really sure where we stand.

Finally, what seems like an eternity later, she breaks into a smile.

"If there's an Everything bagel with scallion cream cheese and a cantaloupe in that bag, you just might get lucky."

With that she takes off up her steps and lets herself into her house, leaving the door open behind her for me to follow.

There's a grapefruit in the bag but I figure, what the hell, I may as well give this whole getting lucky thing a shot.

After all, the hiatus is over.


End file.
